The Loneliest Click You'll Ever Hear
by theycallmemichelle
Summary: And yet here I was: Constance Billard prom queen, used-to-be but it still counted Yale candidate, renowned Daddy’s little girl, National Honor Society member since seventh-grade, Merit Scholar, and bearer of the Waldorf legacy: pregnant at eighteen.


I was pregnant.

My first thought was, _oh God, please let it be a nice little girl who gets good grades, doesn't drink, do drugs, or sleep around with two guys in one week like her mother did. Minus the drugs. Don't let it be a boy who bangs every female he sees and flies off to an assortment of various countries for no reason and is too cowardly admit he loves someone, like his father. Please._

Oh, shit. Chuck, a father? Knowing the pig-headed mother-Chucking basshole he was very known to be, he'd surely come out of the closet before even recognizing himself as a father.

What would my mother say?

She would not be happy with the idea of having a grandchild without having a son-in-law first. And no way in Hell was I going to marry Chuck. Hell, _I'd_ come out of the closet before marrying that man-whore (even though, as Gossip Girl had pointed out at graduation, Nate was in fact labeled as class man-whore and Chuck as a coward—which, he certainly was)

What would my friends say?

They wouldn't have to know. The only person who would ever know would be Gossip Girl, and she wouldn't be finding out anytime soon if I could help it.

I stormed around my room, ripping the curtains that hung across the window overlooking the pleasant Manhattan skyline—filled with people who could see me and the soon-to-be baby bump—and slammed my door closed, and covered all the floor air vents that could pick up voices such as "Mom, I'm pregnant" and whatnot.

Then I flew to my bed and burrowed myself under my cozy 1000-thread Egyptian cotton comforter, shutting out all light—and fresh air. But I could live. Sighing, I decided the only person who could know was my best friend.

Grabbing my cell phone from the pocket of my Caroline Herrera skirt, I quickly held the 2 down until speed dial came up and I was greeted by a few rings, followed by a comforting voice I had known since my diaper-wearing days.

"Hey, B. What's up?"

I immediately burst into tears. Serena didn't have to worry about being pregnant, even though she was the school slut back in her pre-boarding school days. And here I was Constance Billard prom queen, used-to-be (but it still counted) Yale candidate, renowned Daddy's little girl, National Honor Society member since seventh-grade, and bearer of the Waldorf legacy: pregnant at eighteen.

"Blair! What's wrong? Do you need me to come over?" Serena's voice became strained and concerned. She paused. "You didn't…throw up again, did you?" she whispered. Oh, thanks, S. Referencing my bulimic days.

"No!" I shrieked at her. Then sobbed.

"B…are you okay?" Serena asked, concerned.

"No, I am not okay! My period has been late for two weeks."

"Oh, no…"

"Oh, yes! Serena, I'm pregnant!" I confessed, weeping my eyes out.

"My God! Whose is it?" Serena demanded.

"I think it's Chuck's."

"Chuck! But you guys haven't slept together since…since my mom's wedding, right?"

"Wrong. I forgot to tell you…Chuck told me he loved me." I mentioned, twitching a half-smile through my mortification.

"Are you kidding? That's great, Blair!" Serena cheered, lightening up the mood.

"Yeah, well, afterwards we, um…_celebrated_…"

"Naturally." Serena giggled.

"But I wasn't expecting on celebrating a baby shower anytime soon!"

"Oh, B…are you sure? Are you sure the pregnancy test was just wrong?" Serena protested.

"No! I took it three times." I sniffled.

"What are you going to do?" Serena wondered.

"I…I don't know," I sighed. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, you have two options." Serena pointed out. "Have the baby, and then give it up for adoption or if you were crazy, raise it, and then the other choice is—."

"I'm not getting an abortion!" I interrupted. "Pregnant or not, I'm not going to kill a baby just because I was stupid. I have to learn from my mistakes. I'm…" I paused. "I'm going to have the baby."

"What about college? You can't go to school pregnant, and no way will Eleanor let you. And what are you going to do when you have the baby? Put it up for adoption? Who can you trust with your own baby's life?" Serena protested.

"I'll find somebody. Maybe Mom and Cyrus can raise it, while I'll be at college, so _she_ doesn't have to go and get pregnant." I mused.

"What about when you come home for the holidays?" Serena interceded. "Seeing Eleanor and Cyrus's 'baby' and treat them like a little sibling when you're actually the mother? That would kill me," she sighed.

"It would be my punishment for letting this happen in the first place." I said flatly.

"Wait…have you told Chuck?" Serena suddenly asked.

Silence.

"Blair. You have to tell him."

"I know! But things have just gotten to be good for us. This…this will just ruin it," I frowned.

"You don't sound too happy with him." I could see Serena paused outside of some little café by the Palace Hotel, sitting at one of the cute outdoor tables shaded by a quaint umbrella, sipping a decaf latte and munching on a warm and tasty blueberry muffin. Lucky.

"Well, I'm not." I admitted.

"But you just told me he said the three magic words! Y'know, all that eight-lettered mumbo jumbo?" Serena prodded, giggling a little.

"I don't know, S. I guess I'm just mad at him because of what I did." I sighed, more to myself than Serena.

"You need to tell him. I-love-you or not, he deserves to know that he and you are going to have a baby," she insisted in a low voice.

"I know, I know."

"Promise me you'll tell him—today," she continued.

"I promise." I half-lied. I would tell him…maybe not today, though.

"Blair…"

"I'll tell him today! Yes! I promise." This time it wasn't a lie.

"I hope everything works out, B. Love you!" Serena sing-songed in her cheery little falsetto.

"Love ya too, S," I giggled, smiling through my dry tears.

_Click._ I was truly alone again.

I closed my eyes and sighed through my nostrils. I sat there, curled up under my bed covers, for a long time. I couldn't hide anymore—I had to tell Chuck.

Sitting up and tossing my comforter aside—Dorota would clean it up later—I stared at my phone and searched through my contacts. Aaron (my stepbrother), Agnes (the granddaughter of Yale's dean of admissions—I babysat her once.), Anne (a girl from school), Bex (the van der Woodsen's art dealer—she bought me a painting once), Carter (legend on Gossip Girl's radar, I slept with him once), Catherine (my ex-boyfriend Marcus's stepmother and lover…ew), Cece (Serena's grandmother—my favorite old person)…oh. And Chuck.

Ring…ring…ring…

"Hello?" A groggy voice answered. He sounded hungover.

"Hi. It's Blair." I greeted, my voice quaking.

"Hey. I—,"

"Do you still love me?" I interrupted.

"Since…yesterday? I think so." Chuck chuckled (pun!).

"And…you'll love me no matter what?" I persisted.

"Probably. I've been doing so for awhile." He pointed out.

"How much do you love kids?" I suddenly asked. Real smooth, B.

"Um…?"

"I mean, how badly would you hate babysitting? Well, first of all, how badly would you hate having a baby that needed to be babysat in the picture to begin with at all?" I blabbered.

"Where are you going with this, Waldorf?" Chuck got more serious.

"Well…I'm kind of…"

"If you're asking me to help babysit that little brat Agnes with you again, forget it. Unless she goes to bed early and then _we_ can go to bed and—,"

"I'm done with babysitting, Chuck. Agnes was my first and last client," I argued.

"Then what's the matter?"

"I'm pregnant, Chuck!" I blurted.

Silence.

Then a _click_.

Then, faint sobs. My own.

**END.**

A/N - Not the best way to end things, but I didn't know how else to go on without it becoming an actual story, which is a possibility (once I finish my 4 other stories in-progress)


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